A Storybrooke Life
by SilverDoe93
Summary: Life has finally slowed down in Storybrooke. There is no curse to break, no mystery to solve. No one's missing, banished, or trying to destroy the town. With no monsters to fight, no villains to redeem and no victims to save, the residents of Storybrooke are left to figure out how to live normal lives - if they can. Takes place post Season 4B; Keeps with canon at least up to 4.16.


_**Chapter 1: A Fresh Start**_

The sun rose on Storybrooke as it had every other day for – well, no one was quite sure exactly how long. There was an ongoing debate over how to count the 28 years of the first curse and no one, it seemed, had kept track of the number of days they were in the Enchanted Forest before the second curse had brought them back to Maine. There was too much confusion for anyone to be completely sure how much time had passed. They had all learned to accept it.

The day began completely ordinarily. There was no crisis to avert, no tragedy to mourn, no pending disaster to anticipate. It was a normal day – which must have been the reason it felt so strange.

Rumplestiltskin stood in the back room of his shop. He and Belle had just arrived. As she had paused to straighten several objects on the counters, he had come straight back here. His eyes scanned the many items on the walls. He hoped she hadn't already found the necklace and moved it somewhere else – that would completely ruin it as a surprise.

His gaze found the tiny, lace-covered box hiding in a corner on a middle shelf. A satisfied smile slipped across his face as he strode forward, pulling it free. He heard footsteps behind him and turned. Belle stepped forward, looking at him curiously.

"What's that?"

"This?" Rumple moved toward her, leaning on his cane in front of her. He held up the box, still smiling. She smiled back, a little hesitantly. "This is yours."

"Mine?"

Rumple carefully shifted his weight onto his cane so that he could use both of his hands to open the lid of the box. A beautiful silver-chained necklace with a clear, glowing pendant rested on the fabric inside.

Belle's eyes widened. She gasped. "Rumple – this…" She looked up at him, taken by surprise. "You still have it…."

"I should have given this to you a long time ago," he said softly, meeting her eyes. "Back when you first admired it in my castle. I know it doesn't change anything now. At this point – it's little more than a keepsake. But, please, I want you to have it."

She held his eyes, still smiling, and there was a tenderness, a grace, in her face that caused his heart to skip a beat. "Of course," she whispered. "Thank you."

He helped her to clasp the chain behind her neck, and then she turned back to face him, suddenly businesslike.

"So, Rumple, I've been thinking – this shop. It's full of things that you and I don't need. Since we're going to be staying here in Storybrooke, why not actually turn it into a real pawn shop?"

Rumple blinked at her. "What – you mean actually sell this stuff to people?" He laughed, shaking his head. "No, no, trust me, Belle, that is _not _a good idea." He lifted his arm to gesture at the walls of artifacts. "Some of this stuff is extremely dangerous. You do not want those items in the hands of those townspeople. Someone, or a lot of someones, will get hurt."

"Well obviously we won't sell the dangerous stuff," countered Belle. "Look, before we sell anything, we'll need to check through the inventory. You can go over every item and decide what's safe to sell and what isn't. And, besides, it'd be good to know everything that's in here."

Rumple gazed around for a moment more and then slowly nodded. "You're right. It's not a bad idea. Shall we begin, then?"

"_You _can begin," said Belle as they walked back into the front room. He stared at her.

"You're not helping?"

"I have to check on the library."

"Oh – yes, of course."

Belle smiled, resting her hand briefly on his arm. "I've been thinking of hiring someone else to work in the library when I can't; that way it will be open more. And I'll have more time to spend helping you here."

He returned her smile and leaned forward to wrap his arm around her in a hug. He said into her hair, "Thank you, Belle." She hugged him back.

After they pulled apart, she headed for the door, pausing just before she left. "I'll be back later this afternoon," she told him. "Good luck."

He lifted a hand to wave as she left the shop. Through the window, he watched her walk down the sidewalk until she was out of his sight. Then, sighing, he surveyed his shop. "Well," he muttered, "might as well get this over with." With that, he settled in to begin the inventory.

* * *

Regina was walking down the street toward the town hall when she heard someone call out her name. She turned. Tinkerbell ran across from the other side of the street, ignoring the two cars that nearly crashed into each other trying to avoid her.

"That was dangerous," commented Regina as the fairy halted in front of her.

"I'm glad I ran into you," said Tink, ignoring Regina's comment. "I've been wanting to talk."

Regina lifted an eyebrow. "Okay – so talk."

Tink gazed at her evenly. "There's not much to do here."

"And that's my problem… why?"

"Well, you're the mayor again, and we thought that if there were more town-sponsored activities–"

"We?" interrupted Regina, with the uneasy feeling that she knew where this was going. "Who's _we?_"

"Just a few people who I was talking to –"

"Right – _a few people. _And these few people elected you to be the one to talk to me?" As she complained, Regina thought, irritated, _I do not have the time to deal with needy townsfolk._

"Well, yes," admitted Tinkerbell. As Regina rolled her eyes and started to turn away, Tink quickly stepped forward, catching the other woman's arm. "Come on, Regina." She lowered her a voice a little. "I know you're not exactly thrilled with the way things have gone and the whole happy ending thing, but maybe this is exactly what you need."

"What, you think spending my time organizing events to keep people entertained is going to make me feel better?" Tinkerbell opened her mouth to reply, but Regina kept talking. The need to say what was on her mind had burst into her; the words came tumbling out of her mouth, catching her off guard. "Maybe I don't want to be mayor – maybe I shouldn't be mayor. I didn't want to be queen, but then my mother forced it on me and then, let's face it, I was terrible. Everyone hated me. And now I'm mayor, again, and it was great at first but now I'm not so sure I want the job anymore. Seems to me it's more trouble than it's worth."

"Maybe if you actually gave it a shot, you might find that you like being the mayor. And, even if making the town happy doesn't make you feel better, trying to isn't going to make it worse." When Regina sighed again and stared across the street, Tink grabbed her other arm as well. Regina looked at her.

"Just organize one event," said Tink, "One. And if it's a disaster, then you have my blessing not to organize any more."

Regina stared at the fairy, her mind wavering. The thought of doing what Tink suggested made her feel tired. She just wanted – but it didn't matter. She wasn't going to get what she wanted. Looking at Tink, Regina got the sense that the fairy wasn't about to quit trying to convince her. With a final sigh, Regina nodded. "Fine. ONE event. That's _it._"

Tink grinned. "Thanks Regina." She gave the mayor's arms a squeeze and then released them, turning to jog back across the street.

"Wait!" Regina called after her, suddenly panicking. "I need ideas, or –" The fairy was gone. Feeling resigned, Regina turned to resume walking to the town hall. Her mind, for the first time in a while, was busily working on solving the new problem.

* * *

Emma Swan sat in the sheriff's office. She leaned back in her chair, her arms folded across her chest. Her eyes stared across the room at the empty jail cells.

"Something on your mind?" Her father asked.

Emma jumped; she hadn't noticed David come into the room. She swiveled her chair to face him, grinning sheepishly. "Nothing important. Where's Neal?"

"Red's watching him," said David, walking over to sit on the edge of her desk. "And with Mary Margaret at school, that leaves me free to be your deputy today."

Emma grinned. "Sounds great." She settled back into her chair again. "Except I'm afraid there's not much work for a deputy to do today."

"Everything's still quiet?"

"Yeah. So far, anyway."

David nodded slowly, glancing around. "Makes you wonder how much longer all this peace and quiet is going to last."

"A while, I hope," replied Emma.

David glanced at her, opened his mouth, closed it, stared at the wall for a moment, and then looked back at Emma. "We haven't really talked recently. How are you doing?"

"I'm good," said Emma, glancing up at him. "Really," she added when he looked unconvinced.

"You seemed pretty lost in thought."

"I was just thinking… things have slowed down a lot lately, and I have more time now," Emma leaned forward in her chair, resting her arms on the desk in front of her. She looked up at her father. "I have more time for Henry – and for you, and Mom," She paused and then added, "And Killian. And Regina, even. I have more time, but no idea how to spend it."

David nodded. "It's hard. But you'll figure it out. It wasn't that long ago we had six weeks of downtime."

"Yeah, but that wasn't really downtime," Emma pointed out. "There were the fairies to rescue, and we were trying to find the author. This time – this time it's different. There's no crisis, no mystery, just…"

"Just life," said David. He gave Emma a smile. "Believe me, I feel just as out of place as you do. I think everyone does. There's nothing else to do except just get used to it. And you will. We all will."

She smiled back. "Yeah. You're right."

"So," David stood up, grinning at his daughter. "While we get used to it – how about a game of chess?"

"You know I'm not good," protested Emma. David chuckled.

"You're getting better! Come on, one game."

"Fine. One game."

David pulled the chessboard and figurines out of the drawer where they were kept while Emma cleared off a space on the desk. Her father pulled a chair over and settled into it as they began setting up the pieces.


End file.
